A/N: First, thank you so much to everyone enjoying this, especially folks sharing on Tumblr and other social media. It's so helpful to me, letting me grow my audience and reach people who wouldn't otherwise know about my fics or art. If you enjoy any of these fics, please feel free to share to Tumblr. Again, it's so so helpful! ^_^
This is for an anonymous requester on Tumblr, wanting a drabble centered around the phrase "Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore'". It's been a while since I've brushed up on my Edgar Allen Poe, but for anyone who has read and enjoyed his poem The Raven, I hope some lines in here are familiar ^_^
Setting: non-specific but probably early because Cas still has his wings (or he has them back again, dealer's choice)
Summary: A vampire has taken Sam. Foolish vampire.
Nevermore
The midnight was dreary, bleak December rustling outside my chamber door. Rain was tapping, tapping, tapping on the window as I stared deep into the darkness. I am old; so very old. What was a little bit of rain, a quiet thunder rumbling? Just a storm, and nothing more.
Lightning flashed, illuminating my own visage in the window by the door. Rolling thunder, swiftly cracking, drew a moan from the man bound to the table at my back. I smiled; my reflection followed suit. Together, my countenance and I bared our fangs and turned towards the hunter as his blood dripped slowly, slowly, slowly to the floor.
He was tall and strong and muscled, mussed hair damp with sweat and gore. Flannel and denim formed the wrapping for my dinner, blood like wine but twice as sweet. His heart beat faster; a siren song. Thrice I'd fed on him with no intent to let him slip away. Long this man could feed me, my blood lust a beastly monster like nothing ever seen before.
I lowered my face to the hunter's throat and suckled greedily for that life-giving nectar I adore. His arms jerked at leather bindings, pulling, pulling, pulling weakly to avoid my fangs. All for nothing; no one escapes a vampire's kiss. He cried out once, face guant and ghastly, in harmony with the sudden rapping at the door.
I straightened swiftly, quite choleric at the interruption to my latest score. Again, the knocking, blasted knocking, preceding an explosion of noise as the door was blown aside. More visitors; pitiable wretches. One was another hunter, freckles splashed like constellations across a wrathful, fearsome face. The other, an angel with wings just like a raven's, which no monster could ignore.
An angelic raven, right there at my door.
"Sammy!" cried the hunter, machete glinting, stained with the blood of monsters he had killed before. He came in charging, either for me or my helpless victim, and his heart was beating, beating, beating, tantalizing to the point that I could scarcely think. I craved his blood; I needed to drink. Faster than the lightning outside the window, I grabbed the freckled boy and threw him against the wall. Then the raven raised both wings and weapon, burning like a god of yore.
"I've never tasted angel blood," I moaned with need, and then I swore. How could I contain myself, fangs still dripping, dripping, dripping warm liquid down my chin. This was a treat; one I would savor. "Do you know how long I've yearned for sweeter wine? Come, try and take him, and I'll feast on you like so many others here before."
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
Then fiercely he flew forward, great wings flapping as he crossed the floor. Barely could I dance aside, skewered by his plutonian glare, and nearly his flashing blade as well. My fear was strong; my lust was stronger. Crazed I must have looked, grinning at the raven, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core.
I never saw him move, blinded by a flash of lightning visible from the window by the door. At first I thought he'd flown right by, until I realized the lightning was the silver of his blade. I choked on blood; it was my own. Wide and shocked, my eyes sought the raven whose angelic weapon had pierced my immortal body. And then I fell down to the floor.
Light was spurting, spurting, spurting, from the wound like I had never felt before. Orange and wrathful, it filled my vision, collapsing on itself until all I saw was him. It was the raven; angelic raven. Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered, ripping his blade from my heart. One word followed my spirit from my shell upon the floor.
The word was "Nevermore."